Children Story about Rabbit: Hi, I’m a little rabbit
She was a pink rabbit. She was always at the corner of the street where I passed every day to buy groceries, smiling at everyone who walked by and saying, “Hi, hello, I’m a little rabbit from Dogga Village.”
Her words never slowed down the hurried footsteps of the passersby. Some would brush past her and mutter, “Dogga Village? Where’s that?” To be honest, I could tell they weren’t expecting an answer when they asked—they didn’t even look up at the pink rabbit. But the rabbit, with genuine enthusiasm, would reply, “Dogga Village is just over the mountain, it’s beautiful…” But before she could finish, the person had already walked far, far away.
When she said again, “Hi, hello, I’m a little rabbit from Dogga Village,” I couldn’t help but mimic her, smiling as I said, “Hi, hello, I’m Lumi from Apartment 73 at Wonderful Residence. You’re welcome to visit me.” Honestly, I just said it casually, just like those people who asked where Dogga Village was. We didn’t expect any real answers.
But the pink rabbit took it seriously. She smiled beautifully, even showing three teeth. That’s hard for people to do—you either show four teeth or eight. She cheerfully said, “Sure, I’d love to visit you.”
I didn’t expect it, but a few mornings later, my doorbell rang, and there was the pink rabbit standing outside. She had brought me a basket of fresh strawberries, her face glowing with the same sweet color as the berries.
I quickly moved from surprise to composure, invited her in, and offered her a seat. She glanced around my living room and said, “Your place is so nice, really unique.” I felt a bit sad for her. My room was the same as every other room in town. The residents here all lived in identical houses, with identical furnishings. Her comment made it clear she had never been invited to anyone else’s home.
To hide my discomfort, I quickly found something to say, “Oh, maybe this jar of pebbles on the windowsill is a bit special. I collected them during my travels.” I pointed to the large jar.
Unexpectedly, she walked over, picked up the jar, and placed it on the unused fireplace. Then she winked at me and said, “See? It looks better here.”
I changed angles and looked from different places, and sure enough, that jar of colorful pebbles looked great on the fireplace, especially when the light was on. The glass jar reflected a soft light that made the stones inside look magical.
The pink rabbit noticed my satisfaction. She also took the initiative to stick a few small ornaments scattered on the coffee table onto the wall by the window. The wall, which I had been staring at unhappily every day, suddenly became lively. I clapped my hands in approval. She jumped up, grabbed a piece of green paper from my desk, and covered the lampshade above the dining table. Needless to say, from then on, I would be eating “green food” at every meal.
She even turned the purple mosquito net I had abandoned in the corner into a big flower ball, hanging it from the ceiling. Sunlight streamed in through the window, casting a purple glow over the room. It was so romantic that I wanted to burst into song.
Next, with my consent, this guest transformed my bedroom into a princess’s chamber, the kitchen into a poetic creative space, and the study into a storybook castle… All of this, she did using the things I already had. She wasn’t a magician; after all, she only brought a basket of strawberries with her.
We forgot to have lunch, and by the time we started eating, it was already dinner time. The pink rabbit and I drank a bit of red wine and ate strawberry salad. I brought out my cherished out-of-town carrots and cabbage. We happily chatted about the changes in the room. I must have said thank you no fewer than forty times. Even when she was about to leave, I was still saying, “Thank you, dear pink rabbit, you’re amazing. I’m so lucky to have a friend like you. You must visit often!”
“Of course!” she winked. Because of the wine, her eyes were even redder, and she was talking a bit like me, “If I’m not too busy—I’ll visit often, but I—might be busy for a while. See you later, my friend. Thank you—for the wine, uh!”
After she left, I kept wandering around the house, unable to get enough of it. If it weren’t so late, I think I would have gone door to door waking up everyone in town to come and see my unique home. To avoid being called crazy, I suppressed the urge.
That night, I don’t know how I got through it. As soon as the sky began to lighten, I ran next door and dragged my neighbor out of bed. He grumbled and rubbed his eyes as he followed me into my house. Then, his sleepiness vanished, his eyes widened as if they were about to pop out, and he rubbed his hands in disbelief, repeatedly saying, “How did you do this? How did you transform your home overnight?”
Feeling proud, I showed him all the rooms. His mouth opened wider and wider until it wouldn’t close. When he heard that the pink rabbit had helped, the neighbor said, “Oh.” He turned and ran out.
Soon, more people came to his house and mine to see. We sent away group after group, and soon their homes began to change too. Only then did I understand what the pink rabbit had meant when she said she’d be busy.
I noticed that the houses in the town had all changed, and so had the people. They wore different clothes, talked about different things, and there was a smile on their faces that had never been there before. They were still rushing around, but they never forgot to greet each other with a “Hi!”
For a while, I realized I hadn’t seen the pink rabbit in a long time. When I asked others, they all said they hadn’t seen her for a while either. One morning, I walked toward the mountain, and from a distance, I saw a house that seemed to say “Dogga.” As I got closer, I saw that the pretty house had a sign that read, “Dogga Village Home Creativity Workshop.” On the sign next to it was a picture of the pink rabbit. It seemed I had found the right place.
I knocked and went in. A young man looked up from his desk, clearly surprised to see a customer, as it had been a long time since they had business. But when he heard I was looking for a rabbit, he sneered, “Don’t be ridiculous. We don’t have any rabbits here, except for that one.” He pointed to the corner where there was a sign with a picture of the pink rabbit smiling at me. Unfortunately, she was just a paper sign, and because she hadn’t been used in a long time, there was even some dust on her.
On the way home, my mind was a bit muddled. As I passed each street corner, I kept feeling that a rabbit would suddenly jump out—of course, a pink one, smiling and saying, “Hi, hello, I’m a little rabbit from Dogga Village.”
But, there was no rabbit.
Thank you for reading! ” Sitestorys “
